Page 61 of Don't Bait Me (Nora Jacobs 3)

As Nick leaves, he stops and grips Oliver’s shoulder. “Good job,” he says quietly. “Not many sorcerers could have withstood such a powerful blast. Especially if they didn’t know it was coming. You undoubtedly saved their lives tonight.” Oliver throws him a startled expression. Nick’s face softens, and he adds, “Have confidence in yourself. You’re not that frightened boy anymore. You can do so much good with your gift.”

Oliver watches Nick walk away. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. I slip my hand into his and give him a small smile. “Come on, hero. Let’s go sit in the car.”

We can’t all fit in Illren’s car, so Parker and Terrance climb into the car they drove here in—Oliver’s new SUV—while Illren, Oliver, Rook and myself wait it out behind Illren’s bulletproof glass. None of us are in a talkative mood. We sit there, each lost in our own thoughts, and watch as the firemen comb through the rubble. They quickly find several survivors—a couple of vampires and Skinny himself. I guess gargoyles are even more durable than vampires, which is why Skinny’s still alive despite his many enemies. I’m glad at least some of them survived.

It takes about forty-five minutes before Nick waves me over. By now, the fires have been put out, the cops have pulled back, and Nick’s own FUA team is scouring the scene. All of my guys come with me but hold back when we reach Nick at the edge of the building’s remains. Nick waves me forward, holding a hand out to me to help me through the mess on the ground. “It was definitely a bomb,” he says. “C-4, most likely. We found the detonator. The device is near the back of the building.” I take one step, and he stops me. “I know you’ve seen a lot of horrible stuff, but brace yourself. Fire is its own level of gruesome,” he warns. “Watch your step, and try not to breathe through your nose, if you can help it.”

Of course, his warning only makes me take a deep breath. The smell of charred flesh is new to me, but it’s recognizable anyway. I immediately throw my hand over my nose and mouth and start gagging. Bile climbs up my throat, but somehow I manage not to puke.

When I have control of myself, Nick leads me through the debris. There are about half a dozen FUA agents on the scene, and all of them stop what they’re doing to stare at me as Nick leads me past. Each of them murmurs a greeting, all calling me “Miss Jacobs” and bowing or nodding respectfully. Their reverence and awe make me feel a little uncomfortable. I’m not sure when I became a celebrity.

I’m not wearing the right shoes to be climbing through rubble. I stumble and slip several times, so Nick takes me by the arm. His grip is the only reason I don’t keel over when I see several bodies. Two are missing limbs. One man has shrapnel in his face, and all of their flesh is blackened. One man is completely charred. I suck in a breath, and the smell hits me all over again.

There’s no avoiding the dry heaving that comes next. Nick holds on to my arm as I bend over and heave until I’m crying and my gut hurts. I haven’t eaten since I made breakfast for Terrance something like eighteen hours ago, so there’s nothing to throw up, but that doesn’t make my dry heaving any more dignified.

When I can finally stand upright, Nick gives me a crooked grin and slaps me none too gently on the back. “Welcome to crime scene investigation, Jacobs. Every newbie agent pukes at some point.”

Only Nick Gorgeous would look at me like some kind of proud mentor after I just finished losing my stomach over a gory crime scene. “So glad I could join the club,” I say dryly.

His smile widens to that impish grin that I secretly love, even though I usually want to strangle him when he’s wearing it. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you an official badge-carrying member.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you will. Can we just get this over with? I’m exhausted. This has been the longest day ever.”

Nick nods his head toward a couple of guys standing near the back of the building. I see what they’re looking at almost immediately. The detonation device from the bomb is imbedded in what used to be a walk-in freezer. The men step aside for me, already knowing what I’m there for. “Is it hot?” I ask.

The man closest to the device shakes his head. “No, Miss Jacobs. It’s safe to touch.”

I eye the device warily. I’m not sure what I’ll find, and my imprints have been kicking my ass lately. I give Nick a look. “Be ready to catch me. I’m dead weight on my feet right now. It won’t take much to make me pass out.”

Nick slides his arm around my waist and gives me a nod. With nothing else to do, I quit stalling and place my fingers on the detonator. It’s warm to the touch, but it doesn’t burn me. It does, however, suck me in to an imprint.

The moon, only dayspast being full, shines in the clear sky. Skinny’s still stands in all its rundown glory. I’m out back and standing next to two men. I recognize one of them instantly. The tall, lean archer from the Riverfront is holding a block of C-4 to what I’d wager is the building’s gas line while the other man from the Riverfront duct tapes it in place. Behind them, the black SUV waits with the engine running, its exhaust puffing out behind it into the frigid night air.

A light over the back door illuminates both men, and I can see them clearly. Both are wearing the same long, dark duster coats from the Riverfront. The man I couldn’t see last time is much older than the archer. Old enough to be his father—which is my guess, based on his looks. His hair is much longer than the archer’s, but it’s equally dark, and his eyes are the same dark brown. The archer also has his father’s pronounced cheekbones and pointed nose. They look European to me.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” the archer says to his father. “Those are humans in there.”

His apprehension must be the reason there was an imprint for me to pick up this time.

The older man shrugs. “Maybe. I’m not convinced. You’ve heard the stories—other hunters who’ve come across witches and werewolves and even vampires. Those monsters would look human.”

“I know, but how do we tell for sure? What if we’re about to kill a bunch of humans? We aren’t murderers, Father.”

The older man scowls at the building. “No, we’re not. The things we kill are monsters.”

“Right. So how can you justify this?”

“Son, this entire building is glamoured by faerie magic. That means only monsters can see it. They’re probably all monsters themselves. And even if those are humans in there, they’re hanging out with the creatures. Being in that building means they know the truth of what they’re associating with. They’re friendly with them. Dining and laughing with them.They’re a disgrace to humankind.”

The younger man sighs a long, defeated sigh and nods as if trying to convince himself. “You’re right. At the very least, the female working with the authorities has to die. The way she touched those bodies, it was like she had some kind of psychic gift. And then she showed up at the casino the next day? She’s on to us.”

The older man finishes attaching the bomb to the pipe and pushes the detonator deep into the C-4. He stands back and dusts off his hands. “Well, she won’t be a problem after this.” He clamps his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Don’t worry over it, son. We’re doing the right thing.”

The archer nods again. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Both men cast last glances back at the diner, then walk away. They slip into the backseat of the SUV, and it quickly drives away, no doubt to get a safe distance before setting off the detonator.

When I come out of the vision, I’m seconds away from passing out, but only one thought is racing through my mind. “It’s all my fault,” I choke out. “I led them here. They knew I was on to them. I got these people killed.”

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